Nabisco DING Moss II?
2005-05-16 @ 2:23 p.m.
First of all, I would like to thank you all for the ridiculous amount of support you goobers give me. Mmmpwhah! (kiss)..(not a french one) (stop getting fresh with me) ...Secondly, how kick ass are you guys that I'm friggin number 2 on the Top 100 diaryland diaries?!? Not sure how that happened, but I do appreciate it, as silly as that thing is to begin with...
And now I present you with what I would like to call: "A Cute And Unnecessary Distraction".
This is my next 'purchase'. Although I hate to equate adopting a new member of my family to purchasing something. My
(Actually that's not the last thing I'll need. The last thing I'll need is a casket. *ba-dum dum*)
This weekend many adventures were had. Not by me, of course but I'm sure someone out there went and did something exciting. I, however, went and saw a movie with Angel. (Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy), which I actually liked. I liked it so much I am purchasing the book on Amazon so I can stop lying to people when I say that I already read it. Then on Saturday my baby-girl CamCam came over and spent the night with me. I swear if niece cannibalism wasn't illegal I'd eat her up with a side dish of chocolate sauce she's so dang cute. Then on Sunday I went to my sisters new condo and helped her paint. It appears that I suck at painting. I'm sure my sister will agree that painting is not my forte. In fact my forte is yet to be discoverd, I believe. Boy, I hope it's ice-cream-judging, because even though I haven't participated in that, I think I would be really good at it. Anyway so today I noticed that the most random of muscles are sore. Muscles that shouldn't exist. Such as: underneath my forearm. Or the back of my knee. Or my left earlobe. Something tells me that this proves I don't possess the proper painting techniques. Finally I went back to my parents' house in the Hills and tried to fix my Dad's fax machine. Note the implied emphasis on the word TRIED and not the word FIX.
So here I am on Monday afternoon pretending to be doing something productive (which in my case means picking up the phone and pretending to talk to somebody) and fantasizing about the previously mentioned imaginary ice-cream judging.
As a bonus for reading all of this drivel, I am including a picture of my sister and I with our corresponding sons. (Nabisco and Dusty) Look how happy I am despite those bangs! It defies reasoning, except that maybe I was 10 at the time.